


The Bright Lord

by Herzlosengel



Series: Shadow of the Ring [1]
Category: Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor (Video Games), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Based on the Bright Lord Campaign, Blood, Death, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Shadow of the Ring Series, Violence, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:59:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herzlosengel/pseuds/Herzlosengel
Summary: ‘Who are you?’ Celebrimbor demanded as the fair figure stepped into the light. ‘I am called Annatar, and I am the Lord of Gifts.’





	The Bright Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration is heavily taken from ‘The Bright Lord’ campaign in Shadow of Mordor. Obviously, I’ve changed some things up, and there will be more things changed as this progresses I am sure, but this is going to be apart of my ‘Shadow of the Ring’ series. Also feeling dark and angsty probably had something to do with this.  
> I did edit this, but I am sure some mistakes slipped by.

Celebrimbor remembered the day more clearly than any other in his long life, for it was to be a day of joy: Little Anarien joined as an apprentice of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. After she worked for many years and learned all she could from the little time she was allotted to spend with him in the forges, she finally mastered the necessary skills to join. The delight on her face was contagious and even Haeroniel, who had long since grown cold and distant from Celebrimbor many years prior beamed at her daughter's accomplishment. With great pride, he gave her a necklace wrought of silver with a pale green stone fashioned in the middle. A gift which he made personally for her to celebrate this day. Only when he clasped the delicate chain, they heard the heavy wooden door of Mirdaithrond opening. 

'Who are you?' Celebrimbor demanded as the fair figure stepped into the light. 

'I am called Annatar, and I am the Lord of Gifts,' he said and stepped forward to Celebrimbor, 'I offer my knowledge and this,' he kneeled and extended his hands to Celebrimbor where a hammer, wrought of Mithril, rested against his palms. 

'It is so fine a gift,' he said barely above a whisper, 'Why would you offer such a thing to me?'

'I believe you and your peoples' skills will be worthy of the knowledge I can give them,' Annatar said simply. 

Anarien, Haeroniel and the rest of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain looked to him with anticipation of his answer. 

'What is it you would seek in return? Seldom is something given for nothing.'

'Your commitment to your craft is enough,' Annatar replied, 'Which I suspect will cause trouble for none here, as all appear to be of Noldor decent and such devotion to craft is legendary of your people.' 

Celebrimbor should of turned the Maia away as others did, but he, and the other smiths of the guild grew greedy for knowledge that only Annatar seemed to possess, and his careful words caused their doubt to slip. Galadriel gave the same warning as Celebrimbor regarding Annatar asking for naught in return, but the other smiths and himself refused her warnings and of Annatar being turned away elsewhere from a lack of trust. Such a divide amongst the them created enough tension for the Gwaith-i-Mírdain to persuade the council to remove Galadriel as well as her husband Celeborn from their seats. Celebrimbor was surprised by such a turn of events, and further shocked when the council disbanded entirely, and he was made Lord of Eregion by the Gwaith-i-Mírdain who viewed him as a leader already due to his position of Master of the Guild. Galadriel soon left after Celebrimbor had reluctantly been placed into power, despite him urging her to stay, though Celeborn stayed and such a fact Celebrimbor thought quite odd indeed. 

With Galadriel gone and Celeborn holding no seat of power, the Smiths continued their work and lessons with Annatar with greater speed than before. Often, he and others of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain inquired about where Annatar received this knowledge, and when he at last told them he once served under Aulë, The Smith of the Valar. From there, they held Annatar in greater esteem, never once asking him why he left Aulë's side. Anarien's admiration of him grew in particular, as she was not born in Valinor and Aulë, the Valar and Maiar were more akin to a legend in her mind. She began to spend an increasing amount of time with Annatar, though Celebrimbor became jealous of the time she spent with Annatar, he was not about to hinder her opportunity to learn, but he came to regret the time he was not spending with her. 

Their crafts became known throughout Middle-Earth and beyond, for Annatar showed them how to craft not only fine weapons and armour, but with power imbued within them. Ost-in-Edhil become a city of exports as well as smiths. Work with Mithril became more common than ever despite how difficult it was to work with and caused trade with Khazad-Dûm to prosper more than ever before. The increased demand for the mining of Mithril from the Elves consequentially made the Dwarves demands for tools higher, causing for the economy to be at an all-time high and the citizens of both nations could not be more pleased. 

The lessons that Annatar taught on making Rings of Power was held highest of all however, for rings are small and not cumbersome upon the wearer. Though these rings proved difficult to make, and only the smiths with the greatest skill could successfully make them. Many had been made for the Elves of who lived in Eregion and some for the neighbouring Dwarves, but with time greater Rings were forged. 

They made sixteen Rings for those who rules throughout Middle-Earth. Nine were made for kings of men and others deemed powerful leaders of their people, and seven were gifted to the Dwarves. 

'Only you could accomplish such art, Celebrimbor,' Annatar praised him, and despite Celebrimbor denying his work in these sixteen Rings, the Maia assured him that such work would never of come to exist without Celebrimbor's leadership of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. Still, Celebrimbor made every attempt to place Annatar's praise elsewhere, but particularly on little Anarien, who played a greater part in the forging of the Rings given to the Kings of Men. Celebrimbor was impressed by how much her skill grew in such a short time.

'Her first teacher is skilled,' Annatar continued to praise him, and at that time it brought Celebrimbor pride that such words had been uttered to him from one who was so capable. 

'She will soon surpass me,' Celebrimbor beamed at the thought. 

'Perhaps with time, she will surpass Fëanor. She's certainly has a hot temperament like him,' Annatar teased and while Celebrimbor laughed with him, his heart swelled at the fact Annatar thought she was capable of doing such. 

Shortly after such Rings of Power were made, Annatar left, much against the wishes of those who enjoyed his tutelage. 

'I will be back in time, but there are matters which I must attend to,' he said, but would not answer any questions about where he was going and when he would be back. 

During his absence, Celebrimbor forged his own three. He intended for the Elf-Lords throughout Middle-Earth and after may trial and error in how he wanted the designs, he found the perfect aesthetic and crafted them with care. 

'They are wonderful,' Anarien said when he shown her, and only her, explaining that he wanted to receive Annatar's support before he gave them away, 'I am sure Annatar will approve when he comes back,' she said with such surety. 

But that day never came. At least a hundred years went by without so much of a word from the Maia. Celebrimbor considered that constant communication with the Elves was unnecessary due not only their immortal presence, but the Maia's as well. Such a matter should not have bothered him, but there was queer feeling in the pit of his stomach that grew with time. 

'You are worrying over nothing,' Anarien said to him on more than one occasion whenever this conversation would start, and she would hold his hand with such confidence that he began to covet her belief. 

All at once, a heavy sense of dread that washed over him as he worked in the forge. The sinking in his gut would not leave no matter how much he tried burring himself in his work. Anarien grew worried for him and it was clear she did not trust him when he told her he was fine. 

'Naneth says you are acting like you did back in Nargothrond,' Anarien started with no knowledge of how such a statement hurt Celebrimbor, 'What does she mean by that?'

'She means to say I know more than I tell,' he said bitterly and with more anger than he meant, realising too late as Anarien stepped away from him. 

'Forgive me,' she muttered and dashed out of Mirdaithrond, not allowing Celebrimbor to apologise for snapping at her. 

Angered by both the comment from Haeroniel and his inability to hold his temper when Anarien knew nothing of his past with her mother, Celebrimbor threw the rough blade he had been previously working on against the wall with enough force that the soft and brittle blade broke. Quietly, he stared at the pieces of the broken weapon and recalling the days in Nargothrond that Anarien mentioned; where he once been engaged to Haeroniel and how if he spoken up about what his father and uncle were planning, perhaps they would have been married. Perhaps she would have never grown so cold and distant from him. Perhaps Anardîr would have lived. Perhaps Anarien really would have been his and there would have been no struggle to see her. 

'She would not be the Anarien I know now, and I cannot change the past,' he murmured to himself, a constant phase he told himself when he relived such foul memories. 

Celebrimbor picked the pieces of the blade up carefully and discarded them and began with a new piece of steel to forge a new sword from; wanting to lose himself in his work for a bit before apologising to Anarien, allowing both her and him to calm themselves. 

The vision came to him both swiftly and suddenly, and the image of Orodruin flooded into his mind. There, he gazed upon the immense and terrible figure of Sauron holding a mithril hammer, exact to the one he had been given

'We are betrayed,' Galadriel's voice rang in his mind as the image dispersed, 'Its power blazes like a beacon and will bring ruin to all Middle-Earth.'  
  
Both the heated steal and the Mithril hammer he had been pounding it hit the floor with a loud and resounding clang. 

Immediately, Celebrimbor heeded those words and commanded every Elf within Eregion to remove any and all rings from their person. Warning that evil touched these Rings, and no longer could they be trusted. 

'How much did you know about Annatar?' Haeroniel questioned him and his honesty yet again. 

'I knew as much as you,' he retorted, 'But if you are looking for a reason to take Anarien West as you have her whole life, now is your chance! Had I believed Annatar was dangerous,' he started, straining to keep his voice even, 'I would never allow him in the city, nor anywhere near Anarien. Think what you will about me, hate me how you have, but you know I would never put Anarien in danger and on more than one occasion I risked my life for her when you were too bothered by work to notice she had gone missing!' he snapped at her. 

Haeroniel seemed taken aback. The had argued frequently throughout their long lives, always holding her own on those rare occasions when his temper had flared. It was strange to see her standing there silently and clear that his words cut her deeply. 

'Convince her to go West,' was the last thing he said before Haeroniel left him. 

'Why are you trying to convince me to leave?' Anarien shouted, when Celebrimbor brought up the matter again, 'This is my home, Middle-Earth is my home, and I will defend it if I must!' 

'Then defend it by keeping The Three a secret!' Celebrimbor cried back although raising his voice at her pained him, 'Sauron must know I forged The Three, and you are the only one I told! Should I fail here I would not have him take you to learn their location!' 

They stood glaring at one another in silence before Celebrimbor spoke first, his voice soft, 'I would keep you here if you would be safe. Nowhere in Middle-Earth with be safe, and the knowledge you possess will be your end. This fate, I cannot risk. Please,' he begged, 'Go with your mother.' 

Anarien was conflicted, still wanting to fight for her home, though she had never fought anything resembling a battle in her life, but she appeared to understand the desperate situation which Celebrimbor was trying to remove her from. 

'I will consider it,' she said a last, and she meant it. While it was not the answer Celebrimbor had wanted, it was far more preferable to her continuous arguing over the matter. 

Both Celebrimbor and Haeroniel continued to barrage Anarien to convince to leave, and while doing this, Celebrimbor sent The Three which he had crafted to Gil-Galad, High King of the Elves in Lindon, and Galadriel in Lothlórien to keep them safe and to request aid, knowing that Sauron would surely launch an attack against Eregion in the coming years. Saying nothing to Anarien. 

'The less she knows, the better,' he said to himself, 'She will be of less value to Sauron and less of a hazard for all those who dwell in Middle-Earth.' 

When he and Haeroniel had just convinced Anarien to leave with her mother and head West was a day which brought him relief coupled with sorrow. She agreed to leave only to keep the Rings safe but had vowed she would leave Valinor even if that meant building her own boat and sailing along. Even in these dark times, she was that petulant child with a fiery spirit that he adored. 

'The ship is prepared, you both will leave tomorrow in the early morning,' he said and felt relieved for the first time in a long while. 

'Thank you, Celebrimbor,' Haeroniel said, taking his hand in her own for the first time in thousands of years. He would of savoured the moment if it had been meant to last, but Sauron launched his assault sooner than Celebrimbor had anticipated. 

The wooden doors of Mirdaithrond slammed open and Orcs poured in. Haeroniel pulled Anarien against herself, screaming out, 'We are too late!' 

Quickly, he took his bow, Azkâr from his back and knocking two arrows, firing them off and hitting both Orcs he had been aiming, one lodging itself in between the eyes of the first, and the other flew straight through the second's jaw. Celebrimbor was able to let loose only a couple more arrows before having to draw his sword to face the Orcs storming through the halls. 

With haste, he dispatched at least ten of the vile creatures, moving with such fury he never thought he possessed as the last he had slaughters was pinned to the ground by his sword which emitted a deafening ring when it hit the stone. Celebrimbor had only just removed the weapon from the Orc's carcass when a bright light blinded him, and a mighty force pushed him back. The metal of his boots scrapped against the stone floor.

He blinked his eyes repeatedly trying to rid them of the colourful spots which danced over his vision; though he could still see the immense and terrible figure as a shadow coming towards him. 

'Sauron,' his heart crept into his throat and his worry grew as he peered over to the two women who stood at the end of the room. His fear for them out weight his fear of the Dark Lord and his deadly mace. With all his might he willed his legs to move, dashing forward and then leaping up in the hopes that he might strike the imposing Evil in front of him. He had no hope of smiting Sauron, but if he could just dispatch of him long enough or be a distraction to get Anarien and Haeroniel away then he considered his foolish act a success. 

Such a grand thought proved useless as a deep pain washed over him, and his world faded to black, though he did not know for how long. He awoke with ringing in his ears, the grumbling of Orcs, and the faint sobbing of Anarien. Looking up from the bloody stone floor with blurry eyes, Celebrimbor saw Haeroniel, holding Anarien close to herself whilst being shoved by an Orc. 

There were many now, Celebrimbor guessed there to be about thirty through his blurred vision, and they surrounded Haeroniel. Fear was evident in her eyes, but she held Anarien away from them as she attempted to dashed towards him with teary eyes. 

'Celebrimbor!' he could hear her small voice cry for him, though it sounded just above a whisper, he knew she had shouted with all the force she could muster while she and her mother were pushed away. 

With great effort, he tried to stand and reclaim his weapon, but his head swam, and his legs wobbled. Celebrimbor reached a hand out to her, straining himself as he tried to crawl. He watched her do the same, but Haeroniel's grip was firm even as they were ushered away. Frantically, he crawled to follow them when he was jerked from the ground and there was an Orc holding each arm cruelly, bruising his skin, whist another made his scalp burn as his hair was pulled, forcing him to look up and meet Sauron's dark form. 

Sauron's armoured figure approached him slowly with heavy steps, and Celebrimbor glared defiantly towards him, but his gaze shifted when a light emanating from Sauron's right hand caught his eye. There he saw the One Ring Sauron had forged in the depths of Orodruin and a new fear crept into Celebrimbor's heart as he wondered what sort of dark powers were contained within. 

'Take them to Mordor,' Sauron commanded to his Orcs. Celebrimbor struggled to keep fighting, but when a heavy club hit the back of his head, he lost consciousness.


End file.
